When I was growing up in the small fishing town of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia in the 1960's and 1970's it was the norm, after feeding them a meal of table scraps, for people to turn their often unspayed and unneutered dogs loose "for a run" in the evening with the expectation that they would go on a toot and return before the family retired for the night. While this practice makes me cringe on a range of levels too broad to mention here, and I decidedly do not recommend its adoption by anyone, anywhere, for any reason, at any time, EVER, it actually worked amazingly well, and had a few valuable side effects on my formative years that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Most particularly, as a kid on the go in the streets of Lunenburg it was not uncommon to encounter dogs running loose, singly and in groups. Sometimes you knew one or more of the dogs you met, sometimes you didn't. Parents of the town understood this as a reality of life, and instructed their children in the basic rules of conduct that would increase the likelihood their offspring would return home with all fingers and facial features intact. Most kids therefore understood what kinds of human behaviour would increase or decrease the chances of a person being chased or bitten, and those who didn't soon learned the old fashioned way. I was fascinated by the obvious compulsion dogs had to seek each other out and gather in packs, and unlike the children of Lunenburg, how infrequently, when left to themselves, this resulted in any kind of conflict.
There was also a no interference rule because some of the dogs in the town were actually on a mission for their owners. Two blocks from my house lived a family with a Beagle named Lady who, a couple times a day, could be seen walking at a slow and dignified pace past the end of my street on an errand to Zwicker's Variety Store. Attached to her collar was a small purse containing a note for the store clerk and the cash to cover Lady's purchase. She would bark and scratch at the door of the store to be let in, the clerk would open the purse and bag up the order which was usually a pack of cigarettes and a small 5 cent bag of plain Scottie's brand potato chips, put any change back in the purse, and let Lady out the door. Back up the hill she would go with the rolled up top of the small brown paper bag clamped in her teeth knowing that, on arrival, she would happily and politely receive her payment which was every chip in that bag fed one at a time.
There was also a no interference rule because some of the dogs in the town were actually on a mission for their owners. Two blocks from my house lived a family with a Beagle named Lady who, a couple times a day, could be seen walking at a slow and dignified pace past the end of my street on an errand to Zwicker's Variety Store. Attached to her collar was a small purse containing a note for the store clerk and the cash to cover Lady's purchase. She would bark and scratch at the door of the store to be let in, the clerk would open the purse and bag up the order which was usually a pack of cigarettes and a small 5 cent bag of plain Scottie's brand potato chips, put any change back in the purse, and let Lady out the door. Back up the hill she would go with the rolled up top of the small brown paper bag clamped in her teeth knowing that, on arrival, she would happily and politely receive her payment which was every chip in that bag fed one at a time.
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